Untitle Johnny Saves Me Fic
by En amor con morir
Summary: Yes... Violence, Murder, Cussing, Nny saving me who is cowering in alley. Unintentionally and bloddily might I add. I'm not Jhonen. I don't claim to be Jhonen.


Okay first things first this has violence, murder, and foul language. If that squicks you then please leave.   
I DON'T OWN Johnny the Homicidal Maniac!!! I get no dinero from this and that means by wrting it the only thing I get is more drainer and more broke. So please don't sue the poor fanfic writer Jhonen! I love Jhonen's work and I'm not trying to claim it as my own. Johnny = ©Jhonnen Vasquez  
  
  
  
Punk ass bitch! One of her assailants spat the insult. Sarah spun around sending death glares at what looked like one shadowy figure coming closer to her. Then it split into three and she got a little scarred.   
Go back to the whore house you were born from! Came another shout. That voice, it seemed so familiar. Faces flashed in her mind, scenes from school. Her eyes grew wide. The three boys she'd reported for attacking Jude. They knew who she was. They'd probably already gotten Jude, she could match one maybe but three was a differnt matter.   
Fuck you! She shouted at them. She heared one of them laugh and she ran. It was dark and her footsteps echoed in the mix of six more. She was prepared to fight one of them maybe but there were now three and it looked like one had a baseball bat. She saw a wall. Oh dear god no, a dead end. They stopped and wlaked towards her. They were using the psychological trick card. They wanted her scared she'd be less alert to escape like a frightened nervous animal. She'd be unable to use her strongest weapon, her mind. She knew what they were doing and she hit herself becuase... it was working. She was defenseless out in torn jeans and her Johnny shirt.   
Johnny, what would Johnny do? Come on Sarah what would the maniac fucking do? She whispered to herself. She knew he'd have weapons and things and probably those three encroaching figures would be long cold.  
You're screwed little goth girl. No way a lesbo whore like you can get out. Go home you freak. This country doesn't want you. One of them ranted at her.  
Fuck you. She hissed. She was defenseless but she wouldn't cry she wouldn't scream. She wasn't about to justify them. They were human just machines they had to follow rules. Rules she could think outside of. THey were dependent on flesh and blood and subject to lust and pain. Sarah was not, too many years of self abuse took the pain and she wasn't the feeling type. Kind a like Johnny she thought.   
God I wish he'd just show up and get these guys was the thought she had just before a meaty hand grabbed her throat. She was turned violently and taunt muscles in her body twitch to escape. Up against the wall with her arm pinned up behind her. She brought her leg back and tried to make a kick. Something hard and wooden hit her thigh. They did have a baseball bat. She heard them laugh and spout meaningless insults her mind wandered else where places with kisses and places where insanity was accepted. She coudl almost step out of her bodya nd watch it's clay form be abused and fight and curse while her mind steped out. They dropped her as sudden ly as they had appeared and one of them spit in an open wound. They cackled as they walked away.   
She slowly got up and crawled along the wall of the alley she must've been in. She reached real street again where it turned. The boys walked away chuckling and cracking jokes about her as a figure passed them. It was dark and tall and painfully thin.They stood and watched it pass by then started laughing. The fiugre turned on it's heels and stared at them. They cracked jokes shouted at the figure who stood there obviously calmling sending back insults at the fury in the boys' voices. Then like death it's self the figure pounced Sarah saw a flash of silver, she heard screams, apoligies and pleas for pity. Sarah watched in fact amused, Jhonen had been right with Johnny they were just machines they could hurt her but only if she let them. The figure backed away from his work. It was an unrecognizable bloody pulp had had once been three horrible people.  
The figure continued walking, it was glowering and blood covered. It came closer and she saw and prayed it didn't see her. It was a man. Thinly built but she could see power in the thin muscles moving under pale skin. A black trench coat hung over his thing frame tatterd and blood soaked. His hands were the hands of artists and one still held a blood stained knife with a delicate curve and an exquisite handle. It was covered in congeling blood.It's hair looked like antennae sticking out with the rest of it gone form his head. It was funny but Sarah thought it was cool. Not as cool as the boots though. They were a perfect leather with well polished pewterbuckles, no zippers, the toes were shraply pointed and there was a bit of a heel. They were the most beautiful boots she'd ever seen. Then he fizzled like a flickering TV screen on the blitz. Then he was gone. Sarah looked down the street the pile of gore that had once been the boys was now no more than a small puddle of blood. SHe looked back to were he had been. There was the kinfe he'd held. She walked over to it and picked it up it was sticky with blood but Sarah thought it well crafted. SHe looked at her shirt now stained a bit with her own blood and cement dust. The knife she held looked like the kinfe on her shirt. She sighed.  
Thanks Nny. She whispered and with that she skipped home whistling something.


End file.
